


Haircut

by ofmessaline



Category: Twelfth Night - Shakespeare
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-07
Updated: 2014-03-07
Packaged: 2018-01-14 23:25:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1282573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofmessaline/pseuds/ofmessaline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was being childish. She was being stubborn. As always, she would get what she wanted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Haircut

**Author's Note:**

> Taken directly from my RP blog takethefoolaway.

She had been chasing him for a little over an hour now, but now it was just getting silly. Her layers of skirts slowed her down far more than his much thinner pants did.

"Sebastian," she said sternly, crossing her arms. "This is childish." Of course, her words got no response, but she could somehow tell that he could hear her.

She huffed, deciding to choose another tactic. “Love,” she said gently, hiding what was in her hands behind her back, “please. For me? You know that I want you to do this.”

She noticed a slight movement behind the curtain from the corner of her eye, darting towards it and jumping onto the figure before he could escape her again.

Sebastian stumbled and fell, making sure that she landed on top of him so she wouldn’t get hurt, and she managed not to stab him with what was in her hand.

Their faces were only a few inches apart, both breathing heavily. She remained in her place on top of him, pinning him down when he tried to get away. “Let me,” she whispered, extremely glad that the pair were now hidden behind the curtain. “Please.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but he slowly closed it. Their eyes were locked, serious, silent. The object she was holding shifted in her grip, and she slid her fingers through the grips on the scissors.

She could see his imminent flinch even before she cut the first strand of his hair, making it a more appropriate length for a married man. One strand, then another, so on and so forth until his hair was all the same length, hardly brushing his ears.

Her beloved husband looked close to tears, but he had lifted his head for her to be able to cut the back of his hair as well. She gathered all of his hair before he could see it, hiding it behind her back. Her husband didn’t seem to want to know how much she had taken away from him.

She began to cover his face in sweet, delicate kisses as a way of thanking him, although he was practically irresponsive. She kissed his lips for a moment before climbing to her feet to get rid of the evidence, handing off both her husband’s long locks and the shears to a servant before quickly rejoining her husband.

When she found him on the settee in the same room she had just left, she immediately took her seat on his lap and gave him a kiss. He seemed unable to stop touching his hair, and she could sense his unhappiness.

"I can tell you apart from your sister now," she explained, running her hands through his hair as well, "as well as Orsino. Would you care for his lips on yours should he think you are your sister?"

His unhappiness lightened, and he bit his lip childishly. “…I would only like your lips on mine,” he murmured, and she smiled. She was going to win this, and she knew it.

"And I am certain you would rather my lips on yours than mine on your sister’s, yes?" He gave a slow nod. "With your hair short—" she ran her fingers gently through it, "—there is no chance at all that I will mix the two of you up, do you understand?" He nodded again, although he leaned into her touch.

She nudged her nose against his kindly. “I love you, Sebastian.” She watched the smile spread across his lips, as this was one of the first times she had said all those four words in succession.

"I love you too."

Although she knew he would still mourn his hair.


End file.
